


A Little Indulgence

by Mandibles



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Ice Cream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-13
Updated: 2012-10-13
Packaged: 2017-11-16 05:22:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandibles/pseuds/Mandibles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, it’s like ninety degrees out, Jackson’s had it up to here with this whole pack bonding bullshit, and Derek honestly  looks like he’s <i>this</i> close to breaking his fucking hands just to get to his double scoop of strawberry ice cream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Indulgence

So, it’s like ninety degrees out, Jackson’s had it up to here with this whole pack bonding bullshit, and Derek honestly  looks like he’s  _this_ close to breaking his fucking hands just to get to his double scoop of strawberry ice cream.

Seriously, when did this become his life?

Derek doesn’t say anything, because of course he wouldn’t say anything, but his scowl equals  _murder_. Murder of Jackson’s hands, murder of his ice cream … And, it’s not like Jackson hasn’t offered to, you know, buy the Alpha a cone—that’s what pack, does right? Derek, though, only glowered harder, deeper, into something akin to pure, cold-hearted disembowelment. Leave it to Derek to turn something simple into this melodramatic, power struggle that, admittedly, Jackson falls victim to because being a werewolf didn’t stop Derek from being intimidating; it only made him more so.

So, it just puts them like this: with Jackson enjoying his ice cream, but not because Derek’s going to tear his throat out from the opposite end of the bench while the rest of the pack scrambles around, laughing and chasing and what are they, two? Absolute bullshit. You know what? Fuck it. Fuck Derek and his stupid power games.

Instead of just tasting his ice cream with small, tight licks, Jackson decides to actually let himself enjoy the damn thing he’d spent two bucks for. He starts, first, by tracing the mouth of the cone before the quickly melting dessert can dribble over his fingers.  Next, he strokes a slow line up the length of it until the very tip curls delicately into itself and then stretches his mouth over the uppermost scoop and—

And, that’s a growl. In his ear.

Jackson glances to his side and he fumbles with his ice cream, leaving a streak of strawberry, as he practically lurches over the arm of the bench, because Derek’s _there_ , in his space like the fucking creeper he is. With choked rage, Jackson shoves the cone at Derek.

“Oh my god,  _seriously_? Just take the damned thing, then! Take it and leave me alone!”

Derek pauses, blinks down at the ice cream, blinks up at Jackson’s face. After that, he’s leaning forward, his lips parting slightly, and Jackson instinctively leans back, barely remembering to keep his hand out. But, he passes the cone, everything, and—What the fuck? What the  _fuck_?

“W-Wha—” Jackson sputters at the touch of tongue across his hot cheek, trailing along the curve of cheekbone with a teasing slowness he remembers using himself on the ice cream. Then, it’s gone and Derek’s drawing back, but not before  _biting_ into the top strawberry scoop, working his mouth, lips around it.

He nods some sort of acknowledgement as he stands—a thanks, a fuck you—and, heart pounding through his ribcage, Jackson just stares. And crosses his legs. Because, honestly, he’s never gotten so hard so fast in his entire  _life_ and it sends him reeling in this frenzy of  _did he just flirt with me_  and  _oh my god I think he did_ and _I should not be okay with that at all_. Yet, for some strange reason, he  _is_  okay with it, especially when Derek glances back at him and licks sticky lips.

Fuck.


End file.
